Faced with Chloe's cold question, Carson's lips moved, but no words came out. Guilt and panic warred in his eyes.

Jacey tightened her grip on his arm, answering for him. "Sister, you can't force feelings. Carson and I are in love."

Chloe's gaze remained locked on Carson, ignoring her sister completely. "I asked you. When?"

Under her relentless stare, Carson finally choked out the words. "Six... six months ago."

Six months.

The words detonated in Chloe's mind. Six months ago was when she was working double shifts, exhausting herself to help pay for her brother Johnathan's tuition.

The bitter irony was a physical blow, making her stumble back against the wall. A choked, wounded sound escaped her lips.

Just then, her phone shrieked. It was her mother, Janis Watkins.

Chloe's hand shook as she answered. Janis's sharp voice immediately assaulted her ear. "Chloe Watkins! Where are you? Don't forget your brother's living expenses are due this month. You don't think paying Jonathan's tuition was enough, do you?"

Hearing her mother's voice, Jacey immediately began to sob into the phone she was holding. "Mom, come quick! Sister... she misunderstood about me and Carson! She's going to hit me!"

Chloe stared in disbelief at Jacey's blatant lie, her body trembling with a rage so profound it left her speechless.

Half an hour later, Janis, her father Howard, and her brother Johnathan stormed into the apartment.

They didn't see the half-naked couple. They saw Jacey, weeping pitifully, while Chloe stood by the door like a villain.

Janis shoved past Chloe and rushed to embrace Jacey. "My sweet girl, are you okay? Did she hurt you?"

Howard Watkins surveyed the mess on the floor and frowned at Chloe. "Chloe, can't you handle things without making such a scene?"

Johnathan walked over to Carson and clapped him on the shoulder. "Hey man, don't worry about it. My sister's just got a temper. She'll get over it."

Chloe watched the absurd theater unfold. Her family. Not one of them asked if she was okay. Not one of them cared that her heart had just been ripped out.

A cold, humorless laugh escaped her. She pointed a trembling finger at the couple. "Mom, you should be asking your precious daughter and your 'future son-in-law' what they were just doing."

Jacey's crying intensified. "Dad, Mom, we couldn't help it! We truly love each other! Please, just let us be together!"

Janis spun around, her eyes glaring at Chloe. Her words were daggers. "Chloe! Jacey is your sister! She's always been frail. As the older sister, can't you just let her have this?"

Howard sighed. "She's right, Chloe. For the sake of the family's reputation, just let it go. You can find someone else."

"Yeah, Sis," Johnathan chimed in. "Carson's been so good to our family. If you chase him away, who's going to buy me the new PlayStation?"

Listening to them, Chloe felt like a stranger. No, she was a stranger.

Seeing Chloe's silence, Janis's tone grew even harsher. "Don't you forget, you're just the adopted one! If it wasn't for us, you would have died in that fire! We're asking you to give up one man, and you're this unwilling?"

That sentence struck Chloe like lightning, leaving her shattered. She finally saw the truth. In this family, she was, and always would be, the disposable outsider.

Throughout the entire family drama, Carson remained silent, standing by Jacey's side. He had made his choice.

Chloe's tears finally fell. Not for Carson, but for the twenty years of foolish devotion she had wasted on these people.

She wiped her tears, straightened her spine, and looked at each person in the room. Her gaze was filled with disappointment, finality, and a chilling coldness they had never seen before.

Without another word, she turned and walked away. She left everything behind, as if to bury her past in this filthy, suffocating place.

Seeing her resolute back, Carson felt a strange pang in his chest. He instinctively moved to follow her, but Jacey held him back tightly.

"Go on, leave and don't come back!" Janis screamed after her. "You ungrateful thing!"

Chloe didn't turn around. She walked into the elevator, and as the doors slid shut, she made a vow to herself.

This family, I don't want it anymore.

This love, I don't want it anymore.

Chloe stepped out of Carson's apartment building into the cold midnight air. The wind on her face was a harsh slap of reality.

She had nowhere to go. The place she had called home for twenty years was no longer hers.

She walked aimlessly down the street, the ugly faces of her family and Carson's betrayal replaying in her mind like a horror film. Each image was a knife twisting in her heart.

She ducked into a 24-hour convenience store, bought a bottle of water, and sat by the window. The city lights blurred past, making her feel utterly disconnected from the world.

A firm resolve hardened within her. She had to leave them, completely. Not just move out, but become fully independent, financially and emotionally.

She pulled out her phone, scrolling through job sites and rental apps.

The reality of New York City's exorbitant rents mocked her meager savings.

A wave of powerlessness washed over her. On her own, escaping their grip would be nearly impossible in the short term.

Meanwhile, in a luxurious penthouse on the Upper East Side, the atmosphere was just as cold.

Hardy Lewis stood before a floor-to-ceiling window, staring down at the city. He had just ended a video call with his father, Clarence Lewis, and the air still crackled with tension.

He downed his whiskey in one gulp, the glass making a sharp sound as he set it on the marble table.

Clarence had threatened him again, this time to cut off all his funds if he didn't agree to get engaged to Gemma Beaumont, the adopted daughter of the Beaumont family, by next week.

Hardy's phone buzzed. It was his father's assistant, calling to inform him that a reservation had been made for his meeting with Miss Beaumont.

"Tell him I'm busy," Hardy said coldly, and hung up.

The pressure from his family was suffocating. He needed a wife, yes-a tool to get them off his back. But it would not be Gemma.

A blurry image of a girl flashed in his mind, his childhood playmate, Chloe Beaumont. The girl who had disappeared after that fire all those years ago.

On the call, Clarence had mocked him for chasing a ghost, for rejecting a perfect match like Gemma for a memory.

Hardy opened the safe in his study. Inside lay a faded photograph of a little girl with pigtails and a tiny, crescent-shaped scar on her temple.

His finger gently traced the image, a rare softness in his eyes. He had to find her.

Back in the convenience store, Chloe's phone rang again. Janis.

She declined the call and blocked the number. She had made her decision. She would rather sleep on the streets than go back.

She began to consider all her options, even extreme ones she would have never entertained before. She needed something, a catalyst, to break free from this nightmare.

In his penthouse, Hardy made a decision, too. He could no longer wait passively. He picked up his phone and called his chief assistant, Kristoffer Parrish.

"Kristoffer," he commanded, his tone leaving no room for argument. "Use every resource. Find me a woman. A woman I can marry."

Kristoffer paused on the other end. "Sir, you mean... any woman?"

Hardy's gaze fell back to the photograph. "No," he said, his voice low and firm. "Not just any woman."

"Find her. Or find someone... who looks just like her."

Two separate lives, pushed to their breaking points, were now hurtling toward a single, intersecting path.

As Chloe scrolled through her phone, an ad post caught her eye: "Seeking a marriage of convenience. Housing and financial issues solved." She swiped past it instantly, but the idea, like a seed, had been planted in her mind.